Just Business
by BlackRose921
Summary: Troy Bolton is desperately trying to get his company back to it's feet but he can't do it alone. Will he be willing to turn to his old flame for help and most importantly is he willing to give in to her requests?
1. Surprise, surprise

**A/N**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of High School Musical. If I did Gabriella would of committed suicide a long time ago.**

**Hey guys! This is my first Fanfic ever and (yes I'm gonna get sentimental on you, back off) I dedicate this to my lover :P. So I've finally got the guts to post it so I sincerely hope u enjoy it. Bear with me because the first chapter is a little unexciting but it gets better. Its rated M for language and future lemonyness which i guarantee will be coming soon. As I stated before this is my first Fanfic so excuse my amateur writing. Suggestions are always taken and feel free to PM me whenever. I'm done now so go on read it!**

**Come on . . . you kno you want to ;)**

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The intensity of the conversation filled the room. It consumed all feelings of comfort and security. Every single body in the room was automatically surged with tension and fear. Every movement was rigid and sharp not swift or smooth like it normally was. Nobody but me seemed to want to fight back but the anger was too much to keep locked up. How could they do this? How could anyone think of doing this to me? And not just to me but to the company? The company my father started? How could they think that I was just going to throw away everything that my family worked to accomplish?

I wasn't up for this. Not now. It was too soon to be dealing with overweight son's of bitches, especially this early in the morning.

"What are you talking about?" I stuttered, too shocked to talk without my voice cracking. Impossible, impossible. . . . .

The room, it looked unstable. The edges were fuzzy and disorienting. My head felt dizzy and the familiar pang of nausea hit the pit of my stomach. The only thing that stirred me from my daze was that voice again. The one that I all of sudden harbored an unexplainable hatred.

"Troy," The man repeated to me, but his voice not showing a bit of annoyance. This definitely stirred me. Who the hell did he think he was calling me Troy? Call me snobby, but when I'm at work I like to be addressed properly.

Mr. Hanson must have saw me scorn because he cleared his throat and corrected himself.

"Mr. Bolton. . . We. . ." he motioned to his side of the table to his stubby, short, fat, so-old-they're-already-rotting-away executives who all nodded their heads in agreement.

". . . . think it wouldn't be wise to pass up such a good deal. We would be willing to offer an ample amount for the company, much more than it's worth. We're not sure that you two are ready to take on such a huge responsibility, much the less run a whole business on your own. We are not insulting your skills or your abilities, I mean you do have your father's blood running through your veins and it's most definitely evident, it's just that you two are so young. Much too young to be wasting your time in a place like this. You boys have a lot to live for. You could do whatever it is you want to do. If you accept the deal you'll be set for life."

Okay. Let me backtrack just, just for a sec. I wasn't angry. I was infuriated. There were so many things wrong with what he said.

First of all, what was with the "much more than it's worth"? This company used to be at the top of it all. My father worked years to make this company successful and he sacrificed everything for it too. It was the largest sporting goods company in the world. Well, it used to be. When my father passed away, he not only left the company but piles among piles of debts and my brother and I were the ones left to pick up the pieces. The company was left in ruins. Once at the top of the food chain, now slumped pitifully at the bottom. Paying back everything left the company nearly broke so Ethan, my brother, and I were running every which way trying to make deals with other companies to keep from going bankrupt. I know selling the company would make everything okay, at least financially. But I knew it was worth more emotionally rather than money wise. So I wasn't going to give in so easily.

The second thing Mr. Freaking Hanson said that made me wanna kick his ass was that he thought I wasn't qualified. Sure, Mr. Hanson tried to redeem himself with some crap about my dad's blood in my veins but all I heard was "Your not good enough and that's that." Bullshit I'm not qualified! Just because I'm not over the age of a thousand or don't run a risk of dying in the next five minutes doesn't mean I'm not a good worker. I may not be as great as Ethan, and I accept that, but I work harder than any one of the people in this conference room combined. I know the company like the back of my hand. No one lifts a finger without me knowing about it. No matter how inexperienced I may be, this was my company now. And I wasn't about to watch it slip away into the fingers of some greedy, selfish businessmen.

Third, last, and definitely the most least is the part where he said I was "so young." Sure. I am a little too young to be part owner of a former multi-million dollar corporation but who the hell cares? They sure as hell shouldn't. I was doing fine. Yeah. I was a little more than surprised when they read the Will stating that I would share the company with my older brother only because I expected that my brother would get the whole company and partially because I was hoping I wouldn't get anything besides several houses we had in Cancun and some in Paris. Then, just like that, any chance I had at a different future were taken away from me. Of course I was mad but if this was what Dad wanted, then so be it. I would do it with no hesitation.

I've spent a year trying to build my father's empire back up, I've spent endless sleepless nights doing paperwork, I've spent hours discussing new plans and strategies, I've fought with co-workers. _Everything imaginable, I've done it_. If I sold the company, not only would I lose my father's efforts, I would also lose mine. I've been told many a time that I'm wasting my time on something that can never rise again yada, yada, yada. I don't feel that way. I know, I just know that I will be able to get this company back on track and on it's feet. Unfortunately, no one else seems to think so.

At this point, I was really regretting coming here today. When I heard that the president of, get this, Hanson Corporation was interested in scheduling a meeting with us, I was psyched. I was hoping it would be for sponsorship or a dealership. But I should have known beforehand that it was gonna lead to this. I mean, I should have expected this a long time ago. But still! It was so shocking to hear it in person. To actually go through it. It was actually insulting.

"What?" I said again.

"Mr. Bolton." Jefferson murmured. His voice asserting but always dragging in the same antsy, nervous tone it always had. Jeez, I can't believe dad hired him. Jefferson's hand shook nervously as he leaned in closer as if he were going to tell me something personal but he was like 4 feet away since the conference table was too large for an intimate conversation.

Jefferson cleared his voice again as I shoot him a killer look.

"Mr. Bolton." he repeated. "Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to consider the offer. It is quite a large amount of money and it'd be a shame if you pass it without a single glance."

What? What the hell? Jefferson was falling for it too?

"Yes. It would be a shame wouldn't it?" I mumbled icily.

Hmmm... I wonder... Its quite a coincidence that The Hanson Corporation made a meeting with us the exact date that Ethan had a business meeting, is it not?

This event was such a big deal so it didn't make any sense that my brother had been excluded from this . . . . .

"Tell me, Mr. Hanson," I muttered, directing myself back to the unusually thin man. "Why did you decide to come here today?"

The old man's eyes perked up, well as much as they could.

"Why, that's simple Mr. Bolton. We would be delighted to make business with you by buying your company. We think that an efficient amount of time has passed by and the company, well, you know. It obviously hasn't-"

"Not that," I interrupted, annoyed. "I meant why _today_? Why _this_ particular day?"

"Oh well. It just seemed like the most convenient day for both our busy schedules."

I could see right through his artificial smile and his counterfeit words enough to see that he was lying. A trait that came with this business was the ability of lying and being able to distinguish when and how someone was lying to you.

My eyes scanned the room full of executives, assistants, lawyers, assistant-executives, directors, administrators, and more useless people. No one was making eye contact with me. They were either very, very interested in whatever Mr. Hanson said or there was something really intriguing on the ground that they couldn't possibly take their eyes off it.

Oh. My. God. They knew. They knew what was happening. They knew this whole damn time. Those bastards knew! Not even Jake, my best workmate, could look me in the eye. I felt betrayed but at the same time really freaking pissed off. How could they do this to me? Didn't they care at all what the future held for the company? Not even for the sake of their jobs?

"Huh," I uttered in response.

Why _did_ they choose today?

Mr. Hanson looked at me once more with a sort of fake wonder in his hazy, almost unpigmented eyes.

I was the weakest link. I knew I was. I just didnt want to be. I didn't want be the most targeted person in the place. But it was obvious that they knew I was.

I looked around again with betrayal in my eyes. I couldn't believe it.

"Mr. Bolton, We'd be willing to boost up the price if you'd like. And if your worried about your workers, We'll make sure they all keep their jobs. We don't wish to worry you with that guilt."

Oh, so that's it. That's why these backstabbers can't even hold my gaze.

I glanced outside towards the long, narrow stairs that lead up to the front of the building. People walked in and out of the building all looking busy and like they had somewhere to go, somewhere to be, someone to met. So many people. . . .

Mr. Hanson was lying. I knew for a fact that about seventy percent of the staff would get fired by the end of the week. Sure. He promised them higher pay and more work hours. He might've promised them a new mansion and twenty-seven ponies and they probably would've still believed him. But two can play at this game.

I asked him how much and he replied with twice the number of last time.

I sighed and pretended to think about it for a couple minutes as if it were the most difficult decision I'd ever had to make.

"Well, gentlemen. I don't know what to tell you but that I have no interest at all in selling Bolton Incorporated at this point."

"Sir," Jefferson began "Shouldn't we discuss-"

"No, we shouldn't. That's the final decision."

"Mr. Bolton, I don't mean to dismiss your judgment as foolish. But I suggest-" Mr. Hanson started

I began to open my mouth to tell him that he can go right ahead and stick his "suggestion" up his ass when Carl spoke. He was like my savior. Dad's right hand man. _My_ right hand man. He knew what to say exactly and when to say it. A quality that I am thereof lacking.

"Mr. Hanson," Carl said calmly, looking at me with eyes that read "Shut up before I strangle you!" And you bet I did.

"Mr. Bolton has a set of scheduled visits with a very promising company. If the deals turn out, we wouldn't need your assistance anymore."

Mr. Hanson lifted his brow in disbelief.

"Which company, may I ask?" Mr. Hanson questioned, a devious note in his tone.

"In afraid that's confidential," Carl mentioned with an award winning smile. His eyes a friendly response with no signs of malice.

Mr. Hanson responded with a smile also but his was fake and worn out.

"Please. My assistant will lead you out. And again thank you for the offer. We'll sleep on it."

The assistant named Melanie got up a little too excitedly and frantically began to straighten out her already wrinkle-free skirt. She motioned quickly with her hands for them to follow her. Mr. Hanson followed the small hurried girl along with his band of short and chubby executives.

"The offer's still open!" Mr. Hanson called out.

"My foot can _still_ go up your ass," I mumbled back quietly when I knew they were out of hearing distance. Not that that would have mattered. They would've still not have heard me those old coots.

Carl waved back pathetically to the overly wealthy men who proposed to give us an enlarged amount of money for a company that was barely running.

As soon as their asses walk through our door, my face fell in my hands. What the hell was I gonna do? I ran my hands through my hair over and over again, frustrated with this whole situation.

"Nice excuse," I said after a sufficient amount of silence. Those seated across the table had they're eyes glued to the table, still afraid to look up. Ha! They should be scared. Wait till I get my hands on one of them. . .

"Beg your pardon?"Carl asked, his thick white eyebrow arched highly over his oddly animated eye.

"The meetings? Yeah, good save." I sighed. "Too bad there isn't any."

"Now why the hell would I lie to you?" Carl questioned, a devious grin growing on his face.

I frowned. "Wait. What?"

Carl rolled his eyes. "You _do _have meetings set up, you idiot. I wouldn't lie to those bastards even if they weren't offering you a gazillion dollars."

"I have meetings?" I said dumbly

Carl nodded. I felt a chill run up my spine.

"I have meetings," I repeated to myself. Just to confirm that what I heard was true.

"With, with, with who?" I stuttered stupidly.

Carl smiled even wider than before. "Chief executive of Snave Inc," he said, his voice full of pride.

"No way." I whispered, my tone thick with amazement. "No way!" I yelled snapping back to my normal self "Snave? Snave?" I gasped, my whole being was being filled with an unexplained excitement. "Wow."

Carl gave out a hearty laugh. "Your old man has his connection. I may be old, but I'm not useless like those big, worthless hunks of flesh that pass for executives nowadays."

I laughed with him. Oddly, I liked how he referred to himself as my dad sometimes. It actually made me feel like I had a father.

"Wow." I mumbled to myself once again. "What are they looking for?"

"Well, they want to start a sports wear line and they think that maybe we could combine that franchise with ours and supply ideas for the line. This would benefit us because with their help our line of sports goods would expand. But you got to watch out. Others were looking to score with them too but they weren't able to get past Ol' Carl here."

I grinned back at Carl. I don't know what I'd do without him.

"But your a good looking guy. You'll probably be able to seduce her." Carl said chuckling like he said a really good joke.

"Her?" I asked befuddled.

"Yeah. Looks nice. Sorta. Was a little snappy and a bit mean but she is a woman after all. She has a pretty busy schedule. So she began to reject me right away. But once I told her that The Great Troy Bolton was the CEO and would be willing to meet her she quickly said yes! Haha. Wonder why? Strange, huh?"

Oh, no.

Shit.

"I don't know why she's so bitter. I mean it can't be her boyfriend cause I don't know a man in the world that would be able to handle her, if you know what I mean."

No, no, no, no, no! Oh, God. Why didn't I see this earlier? Oh yeah. Cause I'm an idiot!

"She looks like quite a handful. Troy?"

Oh. My. God.

"You okay?"

I. Can. Not. Believe. This.

"Troy."

Really? REALLY? I kept repeating to God in my head. Did you really have to? You did, didn't you?

"He-llooo?"

For the love of everything that is holy, you couldn't of made it anyone else in the entire world? It had to be HER?

"Troy, are you-?" Carl asked "Whats so funny?"

I hadn't realized I was laughing till I saw the other faces staring at me like I just threw up.

"The Chief Executive? Really?" I said chuckling hysterically. Tears started welling up in my eyes.

"Yeah. Do you know her"? Carl asked, his face concerned.

"Oh God. Do I ever."

And boy did I.


	2. Quality Family Time

**A/N: I don't think its possible for me to apologize enough but damn I'm sorry. Had it sitting in my docs forever so I finally decided to publish it. Without further ado here is your fanfic.**

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"Come on!" I yelled. Its funny because I knew that no matter how loudly I yelled at the car in front of me, they weren't gonna move.

I slammed my forehead against the steering wheel and groaned loudly. Not only am I going to have to be forced to eat dinner with my family tonight but I'm going to die sitting here in traffic.

_Could my day get any worse?_

My day was, of course, unproductive and motionless. Just paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork. Several phone calls here and there, nothing big. Oh, and some glares from my part. I kept to myself as well as the staff, not caring to make any small talk. Just saying things like "Did you get the fax?" or "Where's the file?" or "Have you seen _? If you do, send them to my office."

This gave me too much free time to think about my decision. I kept thinking about the possibilities. _Maybe I _should_ have sold it. We'd have almost all our money back. Mom wouldn't have to worry so much. We'd be secure. Landon would have a good future_. But I would have to keep backtracking myself. _No, no. That's just what they want you to think. _Guilty, I admit that I had to do that one too many times.

Hollers and honking from behind me caused to lift my head only to realized that the line had moved up.

"Shit," I cursed under my breath.

Some guy behind me hollered something obscene. I rolled my eyes.

"Alright, alright. Hold your damn horses," I grumbled, putting my foot on the gas pedal. _I'll just assume you've had a worse day than I did, buddy_, I thought.

_Okay, this is good. It isn't _as_ bad as it seems_, I thought as I lightened up on the gas and came to yet another inevitable, heart wrenching stop.

At least it was someone I knew, right? I mean, we were just going to have to get reacquainted. That's all.

_Ha, haven't you gotten acquainted enough_, my conscience said.

"Ugh!" I mumbled, slamming my forehead against the steering wheel again. Maybe having the chief executive of the most important company that would eventually save my ass as my ex-girlfriend _was_ as bad as it seem. Yeah, okay so we dated in high school. What's the big deal? So she dumped me. Right out of the blue. No explanation. So what? She broke my heart blah, blah, blah. Psht! I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. . . . I'm fine, right?

"Why do you hate me?" I said, tilting my head back, looking up.

I sighed. I should of really stopped blaming God for my unfortunate events. Maybe, maybe it was a good thing. Yeah, you know since we already knew each other the business deal would go swimmingly. Yeah. And the company would get enough profits to be able to stand and succeed on its own. Our negotiations would go fine. The past would be left behind and forgotten, no longer mentioned. We would act like mature, civilized adults. Like nothing ever happened.

_Sure. And Santa Claus is real._

Yeah. This most definitely was _not_ good.

Well, what did I expect? It was _her_ after all. _She_ was involved. _She_ got me into this. Oh, _she_ did it somehow. Trust me, _she_ did.

I know it may seem like I'm making her to be an evil, heartless snake but I'm not. Honest.

Sharpay, she's, er, . . . complicated. You have to learn how to figure her out. Or else she'll learn how to figure you out. Sure she's self centered, selfish, materialistic, and just downright mean sometimes but she wasn't _just_ that. She's like a code that you need to crack. It takes a while but once you figure her out, once you get under her skin, you discover someone completely different. Someone who didn't just care about how much makeup she had on or which brand she had on or the most scandalous gossip. Someone who didn't obsess with perfection or looking flawless at all times. She was someone different. She was sweet and caring, as hard as it is to believe. She was smart, really smart.

Manipulative even. . . . .

The line moved up a bit but I didn't budge.

Sharpay, she was just so quick and surprisingly witty. But in that there was kindness too. I remember the tender way she held my little brother in her arms. The twinkle in her eyes as she held him closer to her is something I'll never forget. When you got her out of her artificial shell, she wasn't a bad person. She turned into something beautiful, not just from the outside. She was a person who could mess up and just laugh about it.

Hmmm. I always liked her laugh.

But in the end, I guess nothing ever really changed. She turned into that cold, plastic person again. She just left me out to dry and never came back.

The honking woke me from my daze once again. I puffed out a breath of air and moved up, deciding that it be best if I just moved with the flow and tried to not think too much. There was less tension that way.

I pulled up into my mother's driveway and put the car on park. I fumbled dumbly with my keys while I contemplated over the pros and cons of going inside. So far the cons were winning.

My phone began to annoyingly vibrate inside of my pocket, making it difficult for me to ignore so I took it out hesitantly.

"_**Gabriella Calling,"**_ read the screen. I sighed but ultimately decided that I didn't want to put up with her at the moment. The day was stressful as it was and I wasn't in the mood to feign an interest in her banter. I love Gabriella but to be honest she could talk to a wall. I tossed the phone in the back seat, hoping that the sound would just fade away.

After sitting and deciding that there was no way of avoiding going in there because it was more than likely that one of them has spotted me, I climbed out of the car in a reluctant manner.

"Off to the snake pit," I mumbled.

I was greeted by the familiar, comforting scent of home as I walked through the door. Sweet smells lingered in the air causing my mouth to water. The table in the dining room was beautifully decked out with many delectable entrees. Mom was delicately setting the table, probably over thinking the placement of the spoon and the fork. Ethan was forever absent. Of course. And Landon sat in the living room, on the couch, intensely concentrating on the TV.

"Hello, Honey," Mom breathed. She hugged me and I made a face when she kissed me on the cheek. What am I? Five? But it was Mom, so what was I gonna do?

"Do me a favor and help me set the table?" Mom asked sweetly. She didn't wait for my answer before running to the kitchen and checking the oven.

"Hey, buddy," I called out to Landon. I took out some plates and glasses off the shelf.

No response.

What a shocker.

"Landon?" I asked whimsically.

Still no response.

"Jesus, how long has he been watching that thing?" I asked Mom.

She shrugged and continued checking the oven.

"Landon," I said sternly, walking into the living room. "I didn't come all this way to be ignored."

Landon giggled and ran to me. I caught him in my arms and lifted him up. His arms gripped me tightly around the neck.

"Alright, alright," I said after awhile, loosening his grip.

"You know," I began. "Other little brothers aren't as mean as you."

"I am not mean," Landon laughed.

"Yeah, you are."

"Am not."

"Yeah, actually you are."

"I'm not mean."

"Who says you aren't?"

"I do!"

"Dinner's ready," Mom happily interrupted.

"Okay, dude," I said putting Landon down. "Go wash up," I ordered playfully, ruffling his brown hair.

He ran off joyfully, leaving Mom and me alone. Mom continued stirring, but I could tell something else was on her mind. The glaze over her eyes lingered too long.

"How was work?" she asked casually.

_Fantastic_, I thought.

"How was the, uh, meeting?" she coughed.

_Meeting? How does she know-_

"Hello, Fam!" Ethan said, bursting through the kitchen door. He stuffed his cellphone into his pocket sneakily making it seem like he wasn't on the deck having a conversation with who knows who.

"Mother," he said hugging her. "How was your day?"

What a butt kisser.

"Great, honey," she mumbled sarcastically.

"He-e-ey little bro," Ethan said, hitting my shoulder. You'd think that after we'd both passed puberty he would stop doing that.

"How was work?"

And there's that magic question again.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?"

Ethan raised his eyebrow and cunningly gave a side glance toward my mother.

Mom seemed to get a clue of some sort and quickly tried to shoo us out of the kitchen.

"Chop, chop you guys. Dinners ready. I made your favorite. Lasagna. Oh, it's delicious! You guys are just gonna love it. Landon, sweetie shut that T.V. off. Please."

Landon, who somehow managed to make his way back to the living room, scrambled back into the kitchen, looking as innocent as ever when I scorned him.

After getting settled in our seats and listening to the never ending sound of utensils tapping plates, uneasiness began to set in my stomach in a miserable manner.

Ethan glanced at Mom who answered with an encouraging look. I frowned. What were they doing?

Ethan cleared his throat.

"Um uh," he said, fumbling with his jacket. Ethan looked at my mother who nodded.

He cleared his throat again.

"Troy," Ethan began.

"What?" I muffled with a mouthful of lasagna.

"Um," Ethan rubbed the back of his neck which was a sheer sign of nervousness.

"How-how was work?"

I swallowed. "Great," I started picking the cheese of the pasta, annoyed that they kept asking that question.

"Really?" Ethan asked, looking at my mother.

"So the meeting went well?"

"_Clink_," my fork said as I unexpectedly dropped it.

"What meeting?" I asked sharply.

"The um, meeting that you um, had today," Ethan stammered.

"Uh-huh," I said, unconvinced.

"I just heard that there was a meeting-"

"From who?" I interrupted. "From who, Ethan? You didn't even go to the office today."

Ethan leaned back in his chair and sighed. "So," he crossed his arms. "I'm guessing you didn't sell it."

"Sell. What?" I gritted through my teeth.

"Troy," Mom said gently. "Honey just listen to your brother-"

"You too, huh?" I asked furiously.

"I'm I the only idiot who didn't know?"

I chuckled darkly. "Of course," I grabbed my knife and began smashing my food up. "Cause I can't even trust my family anymore."

"Troy-"

"My family. Lord. Can't trust anyone anymore."

"Troy, honey, calm down."

After I thoroughly destroyed my lasagna, I moved on to my salad, making sure I annihilated everything from the tomatoes to the lettuce.

"Troy stop please. Just talk to us."

"And tell you what, Mom?" I questioned angrily, putting down my knife and fork loudly.

"That I didn't sell our family business?" My voice elevated. "That I didn't practically give away our business for less than half of what it's worth? That I didn't give up what my father worked so hard to achieve? Or did you forget? Dad gave everything up for this company and he left it for us to take care of it."

Mom grimaced.

"Yes, but he also left a shitload of debts for us to take care of or did you forget that too?" Ethan snapped back.

"We can fix that," I countered.

"No we can't. We don't have the money!" Ethan yelled. "Where do you suppose we'll get the money?"

"I don't know but-"

"Of course you don't. Because you don't think!" Ethan insulted.

"Boys-"

"Think? Think? You couldn't run anything without me and you know it!"

"Ha! I could run it a million times better by myself." Ethan said. "All you do is slow everything down."

"If there was anything to slow down," I muttered.

"What does that mean?" Ethan questioned.

"It means _I_ do everything. _I_ get the business meetings, _I_ do the paperwork, _I_ do the proposals. You're on the phone all the fucking time and I still don't know what you've done."

"Boys, please" Mom begged.

"That's me fixing all your mistakes," Ethan lied.

"Yeah, _my_ mistakes. I fix all your damn mistakes and I still don't talk on the phone as much as you do." I accused back, except I was right.

"Bull shit," Ethan growled.

"I've done more work than you've ever done and you know it!" I shouted back.

"Bull. Shit!" Ethan yelled. "I've worked there longer than you have and I know more than you do so don't give me that shit!"

"And you'd think the company would be back by now wouldn't you?" I asked, throwing my hands up.

"I always knew I'd do better with girls," Mom muttered to herself.

"I do the business meeting and you don't lift a finger," I blamed. "I even have one next week. What have you done?"

"Oh, and you're so sure that you'll get a deal? It hasn't happened before!"

"It will happen because I'm the only one who does anything around here."

"You don't. I do all the-"

"And you know how I know that," I said, interrupting. "Because I'm the only one actually trying!"

Suddenly, Landon jumped out of his chair and ran up stairs. The door to his bedroom slammed shut, leaving a sad silence in the air.

Mom sighed and gulped down a sip of wine.

Ethan pursed his lips into a thin line and rubbed the back of his neck.

I looked at him revoltingly. "See what you did?"

"Me? That was all you!" Ethan backed up.

"Boys!" Mom exclaimed. "I think that this whole conversation is pretty much both your faults."

"We wouldn't be having this whole "conversation" if I knew about this before hand now would we?"

Mom purses her lip bitterly. She opened her mouth but instead of saying something she takes another sip of her wine.

I picked up my plate and angrily walk to the kitchen. I viciously threw my plates into the sink without thinking. How could they want this? Don't they care about Dad anymore? Not enough to try anymore? They couldn't. They wouldn't. I wouldn't let that happen. They can't lose hope. I'll start losing it sooner or later and that can't happen. It's all I have left.

Mom walked over next to me. She put her hand sympathetically on my shoulder.

"It'll be okay. I promise."

I sighed hopelessly.

"I think," she began. "You need to go talk to someone, don't you?"

"Yeah, I think your right, but I don't think he would want to talk to me right now," I responded softly.

"But you have to."

"Yeah, I know," I murmured.

I began to head upstairs but stopped when Mom spoke again.

"Hey," she said.

I hesitated but I turned around to face her anyways.

"It'll be okay, Troy"

"Trust me," she reassured.

I smiled halfheartedly.

"I sure hope so."

"Knock, knock," I whispered.

No answer.

"Landon," I beckoned.

"Go away," said a soft, grumbled voice.

I sighed heavily. Knowing that that was the only sincere greeting I would get, I graciously let myself in.

Landon was sitting miserably hunched over on his bed, playing with his toys. One of them must have done something wrong because all the other ones where destroying him.

"I said go away," Landon growled. He threw the beat up toy on the floor before looking back up at me.

"I know," I responded, sitting down on the bed. "I'd just thought I'd see how you're doing."

"Well, I'm fine. You can leave now."

Ouch.

"Listen, I know that Ethan and I, we kinda," I paused, trying to find the right words. "Argue sometimes."

Landon picked up his other toy and threw that one off the bed also.

"And that it happens more than it should. But we still love you and we don't mean to argue in front of you."

Landon grabbed another toy, a car one, and drove it off the edge.

"And we promise it won't happen again."

Landon sighed, a trait surely picked up from me, and crossed his arms.

"Fine," he muttered. "Now get out."

Double ouch.

"Landon-,"

"Out." he cut me off.

I was hurt but not surprised by his bitterness.

"Landon, I'm not leaving here until you forgive me,"

"You never said sorry," he replied smartly. Another trait, no doubt, picked up by me. Now that I think about it, I'm not a very good influence.

"I'm sorry," I stated apologetically.

"Okay." Landon grabbed the Nintendo D.S. that was beside him and turned it on.

"You can leave now," He stated flatly.

Triple ouch.

"Landon, please," I begged. "I'm sorry. I really am. Ok?"

Landon nodded but continued pressing the button on his video game. A dead silence rested through the room, leaving me alone with my apology hanging in the air.

"Landon," I said teasingly.

Landon rolled his eyes but a ghost of a smile started to appear.

"Come on," I signaled. "Give me a hug."

Landon was hesitant but eventually caved. He held me as tight as he could, his skinny arms wrapped around my neck.

"I miss Dad," his muffled voice said.

I grimaced. "Yeah," I responded, hoping he didn't hear the sadness in my voice. "Yeah me too."

* * *

**Did you like it? Did you not? Tell me, review, suggest whatever you please and if enough of you do so then I'll have my motivation to start writing again :)**


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